


The Adaptable

by cersedshadow



Series: 12 days of Lance [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Lance (Voltron), Blue knows what shes doing, Death, Gen, Self-Indulgent, Seriously!, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cersedshadow/pseuds/cersedshadow
Summary: Day 9: The Adaptable‘Incredible’ breathed Allura, eyes sparkling.‘That. Was. So. Cool!’ cried Hunk, jumping to his side. ‘That last one, what was it? It looked kind of like mine but…short.’ He said, squishing his own imaginary bayard in his hands. Lance let out an exhausted chuckle.Blue always knew how to pick them. It was about time others saw that. Luckily, Lance in an expert on going with the flow.
Relationships: Lance & Blue Lion (Voltron), Lance & Voltron Paladins
Series: 12 days of Lance [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612639
Comments: 22
Kudos: 446
Collections: Voltron Stars🌌





	The Adaptable

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this one is self indulgent even by my standards. Hope everyone is doing alright with all the crazy that is the world right now. I have officially been told not to come into work so should have a lot of time on my hands. Still waiting for inspiration to spark.

'You shouldn’t have come back' gasped Zarek as Lance hauled his purple furry ass the hell out of dodge. For the fifth time Lance ignored him, merely grunting in response. Saving his breath and strength for dragging the seven foot muscle packed Galra forward. The man was helping as much as he could but having been electrocuted, shot and oozing blood from several stab wounds he could barely stand.

Lance dragged him forward, sweat dripping from his brow, breath ragged in his lungs. He had been on his feet for hours, running, fighting, scrabbling through the base in a desperate bid to get the information and get out. He had been awake for even longer, the fights with the increasingly desperate and increasingly vicious Galra empire were back to back these days. The mission had been a joint one with the Blade of Marmora, hitting several small bases on a strategically places mood at once. Each Paladin had been tasked with air lifting Blades into the base of choice and then providing cover fire.

Lance had been buddied up with Zarek, a Blade he wasn’t familiar with but who was apparently extremely well versed in close combat. Even by the Blades high standards. The idea being that Lance, being a long range specialist, would pair nicely with the purple wall of bad tempered muscle. They had been tasked with hitting the smallest base and so had infiltrated alone. They hadn’t expected to encounter much resistance. An easy in and out mission by all accounts.

Yeah, that hadn’t happened. Apparently weapons of mass destructions come in small packages and Lance and his buddy Zarek had walked right into the most heavily guarded bio-weapon development laboratory this side of the Empire. Storing all sorts of nasties and containing all sort of fun surprises for unsuspecting guests.

They had gone on with the mission anyway. Working well together despite their less than stellar communication. Both of them veterans of war, battle was second nature. They disabled the base, wiped the data and everyone who got in their way off the face of the moon and set the place to blow. So of course that’s when the druids turned up and the alarms kicked in.

They had survived the druid attack, Zarek taking most of the damage. Shouting at Lance to get out, to flee. That the data and the mission was more important. For his part Lance had left, feeling rotten as he did so, and made the short trip back to Blue. Stashing the data-chips and giving her firm instructions on what to do; should the worse happen. Then he went back, hoping it wasn’t to late. 

It wasn’t. Competence in close combat didn’t even begin to cover Zarek’s badassery. By the time Lance had made his way back through the base, his route shortened quite considerably by the hole they blew in the wall, Zarek had disabled the doors and taken down every drone and Galra in the room. The druids lay very dead across much of the floor.

Unfortunately Zarek also lay, crumpled, on the very same floor. Bleeding out from the lightening bolt wound he had taken to the side. Lance couldn’t tell his blood from that of the druid and could do nothing to help him. He wanted to try and stem the bleeding but he could hear the sound of Galra pounding down the doors. It wouldn’t be long until they got through, one way or another. Not to mention the entire place was set to blow at any moment. Lance had only been able to rush in, throw Zarek’s hefty arm over his shoulder, staining his white armour a dark slick red with his blood, and through cursing and threats force the man into moving.

Blue wasn’t far away. Lance knew that if he could only get to his Lion they would be alright. The particle barrier would protect them from anything the Galra could throw at them until the others got there. However, though instincts born from countless battles Lance knew it wouldn’t be that easy. The Galra were to close.

Zarek staggered, his feet flying out from under him, too weak to take his weight. Lance staggered with him, almost tripping into the red dust. Cursing he frantically cast around for somewhere to hide. His eyes settled on a small outcropping of rock and practically dragging the Galra Lance made his way to it. Straining his ears for the sound of laser fire behind him. Panting and heaving he lowered Zarek as gently as he could behind the outcropping. Hoping the small shelter would protect him at least a little. Zarek hissed, teeth clenched tight as his wound was aggravated. It didn’t stop him from scowling up a Lance, face and voice thunderous with anger. 

'I told you to go Paladin! You need to get the data back. The coalition must know of this'

'Then tell them yourself' snapped Lance, spinning and crouching behind the outcropping himself. His bayard flashing to its sniper form as he did so. Lance narrowed his eyes, looking down the scope towards the base. They were still close but if he only lasted until the bombs went off they might just make it. Assuming the blast itself didn’t kill them.

There was a whir of lasers and the first drone revealed itself. Lance calmed his breathing, counted his heart beats and widened his vision through the scope. Taking in every enemies as they emerged. Hands steady he started to fire, blasts never ceasing. Determined that if this was his last stand he was going out fighting. Like a true Paladin of Voltron.

'You fool! I am worth nothing. You must complete the mission. Leave me!' huffed out Zarek, looking towards the focused set of Lance’s brow. Realising even as he said it that his words fell on deaf ears. The Paladin was determined to die today. For someone as worthless as him. What a stupid sentiment. He might be able to hold the drones back for a little while but with a single gun they would soon overwhelm him. It would all end once they got close.

'Mission objective one; investigate ground base, collect data, destroy anything found' Lance screamed back. Never removing his icy blue eyes from the snipers sights for a second and never ceasing to fire. For every shot a drone went down. It wasn’t enough, he simply couldn’t keep up with the speed in which they were emerging from the base. For every one he destroyed two more took its place. 'Mission objective two: get back alive, leave no one behind. Sorry Zarek but your plain out of luck. We're doing this the Voltron way now. So shut up and focus on not bleeding out. I’ve got this!' 

Even as he screamed his retort back Lance recognised his voice was high and angry with terror. The situation looked bleak no matter how you cut it. The drones were practically a horde by now and following after would be the actual Galra. Smarter and crueller. His snipping wasn’t going to work. He needed something bigger. More powerful. Something that could scatter their forces. 

Like Hunks cannon, he thought. Or explosives. The drones kept coming and Lance kept firing. Thinking all the while of what he needed. Feeling the burn starting in his chest. The focusing of his mind, the building of strange, uncontrollable energy within him. Lance could hear Blue roaring in his head. Deafening and thrilling. A cry of destruction, of power. The crush of the waterfall as it fell, breaking the earth below. Shattering boulders and drowning giants.

With a shout Lance stood. His bayard bursting with light as he did so. The Galra laser fire flew past him, missing him by mere inches. Lance cried out, not in pain or fear, but defiance. A challenge to those who would try to take his life today.

The glow of his bayard grew brighter and brighter. Growing bigger and bigger. All Lance could hear was the roar in his head. His and Blues war cry melding together, mixing together as one. A torrent of sound and feeling and power. He channelled it all, from his chest to his hands, to his bayard. Giving it purpose. Form.

The handle moulded itself around his fingers. His fingers coming to sit on the trigger automatically. The barrel of his sniper shortened and fattened. The pummel disappeared, replaced by a secondary handle for stabilization. Where a magazine would sit glowing round chambers to its place. Lance hefted the new weapon at his hip, pointing it towards the horde of drones. Ignoring for the time being the danger of the shots being fired his way. In the snub nose of his new weapon a deep blue glow grew and then exploded. Flying in circling patterns towards his attackers. Lance fired three more times in quick succession before the first shot landed. Accuracy giving way to quantity and power.

The first shot landed, smacking into the side of an oncoming drone. A millisecond later it exploded. Plasma flying out in a great shockwave. Melting drones in the heat and sending more flying from the force. Crashing and crushing those around them. No matter where the shots landed, drone or ground, the shockwave burst forth. Cracking the earth and sending red dust flying. In the face of the grenade launcher the enemies had no choice but to scatter. 

Lance couldn’t tell it wasn’t enough. That the fight was far from won. The grenades scattered the horde, cutting down their numbers but the shots were slow to charge. Already those which had survived his first salvo were getting to their feet and rushing forward. With the increased space between the drones it could be wasteful to keep firing. Lance grit his teeth, firing three more plasma grenades before letting the thunder of the waterfall recede and the rhythmic push and pull of the familiar tides take its place.

Lance switched back to his trusty rifle, the last f the plasma grenades sends the remaining line of drones flying. His first and most comfortable bayard form settled in the crook of his shoulder. The power first drawn from him by Blue back when they first met, all those years ago. High fire rate, average power, average range but more manoeuvrable than his sniper, more accurate than the grenade launcher. The perfectly balanced weapon for a long ranger fighter. It fell into Lances hands like an old friend and Lance followed its pull, finger tapping the trigger continuously. 

The rifles reduced power meant it took a couple of shots, or a tricky shot to the hinge on the neck, to disable a single drone. Luckily tricky shots was something Lance was good at, having had more than enough practice. Having honed his talent since the first time Voltron encounters the Galra all those planets ago. Lance shot continuously, spinning in a slow half circle to keep the scattered drones in his range. Shots were fired at him in return but that was something Lance was used to. He began zigzagging, keeping his evasive pattern as random as he could in the uneven terrain. Never pausing his assault. Another wave of drones fell, and another. Their metal bodies scattered about and sparking, blocking the way for their replacements.

By this point Lance was panting. Trying to regulate his breathing as his stamina was slowly chipped away. Keith was the one who could fight for hours without rest, not Lance. Galra genes giving him one hell of a battle adrenalin boost compared to his fully human teammates.

Lance was tiring quickly and no matter how good a shot he was he couldn’t keep all drones in his sights, dodge and fire accurately at once. Lance could see some Galra soldiers climbing over the rise from the base and cursed under his breath. Lance wanted to turn and take them down before they got close but there was just no time! Not if he didn’t want to be surrounded by the drones. Lance dug deep, calling forth reserves of stamina he didn’t know he had. Mind cold and calm as a glacier pool and eyes like a hawk. Focused on nothing but the next target. The next kill. More and more metal bodies piled up. He could feel blue thrumming along with him. Her power racing in his blood and vibrating his bones. She believed in him. She knew he could do this.

Lance rolled to the side at the last moment. Just about avoiding being bifurcated by a drone that had got in close. Its glowing plasma sword swung clumsily but with great might. He rolled to his feet and killed it with a shot to the back of the head. It was precious seconds lost and precious distance gained by the enemy. They closed in with increasing ferocity.

Soon enough Lance had to dodge another blow, then another and another. He managed to shoot a few more times but was soon surrounded, with nowhere to run or time to aim. His rifle and awkward and heavy weapon to swing in close quarters. Every moment he spent not taking out the enemy more of them closed in.

Lance spun, ducked, kicked the legs out from underneath a drone. Shooting it up through the head as it fell. Grabbing its body to throw in the way of another. Saving him from being beheaded. He then parried another blow to the side but could counterattack before he had to throw himself to the side once more. Lance panted and grunted, sweat dripping into his eyes and down his back. He fell to his knees, exhausted. The drones closed in around him. Moving to secure their prey. Lance took a deep chilling breath. Reaching deep.

It wasn’t the push and pull of the tide he needed now. His rifle heavy and cumbersome in his grasp. Instead he reached for the biting cold chill of frost. The air cold enough to freeze the breath from your lungs. The sharp cut of clear black ice as it forms. Sinister and deadly. Sharp enough to cut.

His bayard glowed. The broad sword bursting forth. Lance let out a war cry, rising as the handle fell into his grasp, rising to his feet with the flush of power. Sword swinging in a wide arc around him. Cutting a drone from toe to head in one swift move. Surprise gave him a precious moment. With the sword in one hand and shield in the other Lance set upon his attackers. Sword flashing and menacingly sharp. Lance had never used his sword in a battle before but he had practices with it. Altean training droids and Galra battle drones not too different.

Lance danced about. Using the extra reach of his broad sword to make space for himself. His swings devastating. Taking apart drones left and right without mercy. His shield protecting his back as he parried one of the drones. Kicking its feet out from under it, freeing up room to swing properly.

Lances eyes darted around, narrow and searching. Keeping track of the weapons flashing around him. Tracking their moves. Choosing his next target. . Working desperately to give himself space to think, moving through instinct to engage the enemy. 

Lance charged, screaming, intent on slashing his way through when his blade bounced off the chest plate of a Galra general. Leaving nothing but a thin scratch in its wake. Lances hands shook with the recoil but he continued to spin. Taking put the droids around him as quickly as he could. Giving himself distance.

As he spun Lance assessed his new opponent. It was clear from just a glance that this was no normal Galra. Steal like armour plates covered him from head to toe. A full face helmet hid his features, leaving nothing visible but two glowing yellow eyes. The man carried no weapons but stood over nine feet tall and had to be about four times Lance’s width. A goliath among men. Lance gulped nervously, wondering if it was even possible to fight such an enemy.

He couldn’t afford to fall here. Not when he had come so far. Battle instincts and adrenaline drove him forward. Sword in both hands for maximum power Lance rushed his opponent , swinging as he did so. The Galra raised one humungous arm, catching the blow and parrying it off his strange armour. Sparks raining forth. Lance reacted fast, going in for another attack, and another and another. Slash, parry, stab, slice. Lance tried desperately to press his offensive but to no avail. The Galra didn’t move a single inch. An impenetrable wall of metal and muscle. Most attacks clinked off his arm braces but those that slipped by did nothing, the armour stretching everywhere. Lance leaving nothing but think scratched behind. Through all of this his mind spun furiously, eyes darting about. Keeping one eye peeled for any other anomies drawing close. Taking a closer look at the Galra he could feel his heart sink.

On closer inspection the Galra’s strange armour was actively welded to his skin. Flesh scared and cauterised in between the plates. Small flashed of organic matter the only thing to show a living being inhabited the metal prison. It wasn’t the first time Voltron had come across a Galra general with body modifications. Each and every time they had given the Paladins a hard fight, and each and every time it had taken a combination of the team just to hold them off, never mind take them out. Now Lance was having to face one by himself. No back up in sight. He couldn’t even get the man to move!

Lance couldn’t see the generals expression through his helmet, if he even had a face in which to give one, but he got the distinct impression he was being sneered at. His assault slowing as his strength waned. Lance moved back, panting. The general, seeing the pause in his movement stepped forward. Closing the distance with his long strides. Lance grit his teeth, adjusted the grip on his sword. Gripping hard enough for his paladin armour to creak, and charged forward. Swinging one last time.

Faster than Lance expected the general raised his two immense hands and caught the blade. There was a high pitched ringing as the metal clashed. Lance’s eyes widened and he tried to bring his sword back but the Galra held fast. His palms big enough to close right over the blade and engulf it. Lance looked up into the narrow yellow eyes. Seeing the vicious satisfaction gleaming within.

Lance took a breath. Moving even as he scrambled for ideas. He released his bayard as the Galra brought up a knee. Taking the blow but rolling with it. Feeling like he had taken a cannon to the gut. Getting his feat underneath him Lance launched himself forward, emotion welling within him. Feeling the shape he needed, the flickering change of the energy within him. Linking him to the Blue Lion.

His bayard changed back to its resting form, leaving nothing for the Galra to hold on to. Lance caught it as it fell, sliding between the Glara’s thick legs and twisting. The feeling was there, rushing to his fingertips. Another flash of blue, Lance slashing before the change had even finished taking place. A sharp cold, a sudden frost. Hail on a clear day. Light but deadly. The two thin knives like shards of ice in his palm. Thin and beautiful. Lance attacked, blades finding flesh. . Aiming for the joints between the armour plating. Getting both ankles and a knee before coming up behind the titan.

The drip drop of water in a cave. The crack of an iceberg. Sudden, slow but powerful. The sniper shot got the general in the back. Lance flashing his bayard through the changes in seconds. The Galra staggered forward from the blow, leg collapsing out from underneath him. The damaged tendons not capable of taking the weight. Lance was already moving without pause. Emotions flowing freely, mind a live wire, lit up with blue. Feeling poured forth like water, flowing, changing.

Heavy glaciers. Crushing weight. Slow and ponderous. Capable of destroying mountains. Carving continents. The hammer settled, long thin handle weighed down by the immense weight of the head. Lance spun, using the centrifugal force to come around the Galra, dancing as a ballet dancer around his foe. The hammer caught the general in the head. The blow loud enough to bring pause to the battlefield. Lance felt in vibrate through his bones, shaking through him down to his feet. He kept moving, using the recoil to spin in the other direction, hitting the Galra in the head from the other side. The armour began to split, blood dripping between. The titan fell, face down. Lance heaved, exhausted and drained. Strength waning. The hammer rose.

It fell. There was a crunch, a squelch. The armour plates shattering inwards. Blood rapidly pooling to stain the ground below. The Galra gave one last full body twitch and lay still. Not resting for a moment, Lance thrust backwards. Feeling the flow of the battle shift once again.

A sharp river, swift and powerful. Searching and penetrating. Carving out canyons and valleys. The spear grew behind him, the sharp head growing behind him. Piercing the Galra trying to sneak behind him. From that point on it was all a blur. A mess of feeling and instinct and panic. Bayard flashing between forms from one second to the next. Drones and Galra alike falling to the flowing weapon. 

Long rage, rifle or sniper. Close, spear. Closer, knives or pistols. Surrounded, hammer, sword, get space and back to rifle. Lance danced between his attackers, never stopping, never ceasing. Slipping between the smallest of openings and raining down blows mercilessly. Baiting and feinting when needed, striking when given the chance. Chest burning, lungs heaving, limbs trembling.

Stillness. No sound but his own rasping breaths. So loud as to drown the rest of the world. Lance breathed, dripping sweat and blood. A gash on his cheek oozed gently, there were dents and cuts in his armour. Laser grazes on his arms. His hands were killing him they were so stiff and tense. He felt like he could just lie down. Fall into sleep right here right now. How long had he been fighting?

Lance looked around. Pulling the spear from the Galra’s spine. There were no more enemies. The ground was littered with drone parts and dead Galra. Lance found Keith and Shiro standing little way away, a few more drones and Galra at their feet, weapons out. Both of them were staring at him, mouths agape.

Time sped up. Lance coming back to himself in a sudden rush. His bayard returned to normal and he dove to where he left Zarek. Finding the Galra just where he left him, still bleeding out but otherwise fine. He too was staring with some unknown emotion. Eyes piercing, following Lance like a cat. Lance heaved the Galra over his shoulder, setting off towards Blue, legs trembling.

‘Lance?’ called Shiro, hesitantly. Lance tried to answer but didn’t have the breath. Voice horse and scratched from screaming. How long? How long did he have until the base blew? Blue, he needed to get to Blue. The world grew hazy, spinning around him as his legs collapsed. A roaring sounded in his ears, beating up through his heart. Setting alight to his spine and punching the last of his breath from his lungs. Lance fell.

He woke up, the cold permeating his skin. Along with the nausea and trembling of his legs it was a familiar sensation. Lance staggered out of the pod like a new born dear and was caught not a tick later. He snuggled down for the warmth, not really caring who had caught him. It was a little strange though. Lance knew his teammates well by the point and was fairly certain he could tell them apart within seconds, even after having his mind frozen. He didn’t recognise this person. They were big and muscley and strong enough to lift him by his arms like a feather and deposit him on the sofa, limp as a rag doll. 

Lance looked up blearily, seeing Zarek staring back at him. No longer bleeding, face like stone. Lance probably would have jumped back if he had the energy. His brain taking a moment to connect the friendly face and not immediately react to a the big purple Galra solider looming over him.

‘W-Whats up, partner’ Lance slurred. Damn, the pods had really done him in this time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this wiped out. Just how long was he in there? ‘’Looking good. Where’s the team?’

‘The other Paladins are on their way. The Blade called about the mission and they had to attend.’

‘Why…why you hear then? Didn’t they need to talk to you too?’

‘I have only just exited from healing. I will give my debrief to Kolivan once I return to the base shortly. Everything I have to say can be inferred by the data you hid in the Blue Lion.’

‘She let you in then? To get it?’

‘I have been informed the Yellow Paladin was able to retrieve it without problem. Though as I said I have only been awake a few dobashes myself.’

Lance smiled, letting his tired head rest on his chest. Sending happy warm feelings to Blue. Feeling a thrumming returned from behind his heart, close to his spine. Where he thought the bond resided. ‘Good girl’ he muttered. There was silence, Lance slowly opened his eyes and looked up. Finding Zarek still looming above him. ‘Sit down would you. I don’t bite.’ Zarek sat but the silence continued. Lance bounced his leg, rolling his eyes and huffing, turning to his companion to face him head on. ‘Okay, what? Why are you staring at me like that?’

‘I am not staring.’

‘You literally are. You haven’t taken your eyes off me this whole time.’ Suddenly a thought occurred to him, panic lacing through him. Lance scrambled desperately to feel his own face. ‘Don’t tell me I’ve got a scar! Is it bad? Is it badass?! Give it to me straight, just how messed up is it?’

Zarek let out a huff, air whooshing out from between his fangs. Lance stared; it was the most human sound he had heard the man make. ‘You do not have a scar Blue Paladin.’

‘Well what then!?’ cried Lance exasperated. Where was Keith? He was their resident Galra interrupter. Apparently moody stone faced ninjas all spoke the same incomprehensible body language. Lance could never figure it out.

‘You were irresponsible and put the whole mission in jeopardy. You shouldn’t have returned for me.’ Lance fumed, incandescent with rage. More than ready to snap back; Zarek didn’t give him the opportunity. His voice dipped to a deep purr, respect colouring ever word. ‘However, if you hadn’t done so I would have been dead. So thank you, Blue Paladin. While I don’t condone what your methods did from a professional standpoint I am thankful to still be living.’

Lance breathed heavily for a moment, letting go of his sudden anger. ‘Well, you’re welcome. All part of the job description. No man left behind, and all that.’

Zarek frowned at him. Mulling that over. The Blade had become good allies in the war and Voltron had run a number of missions with them. Lance himself even found many of the members to be fairly decent guys, as long as you got them off duty. However it was impossible to miss the large gap in the ideologies between the Marmorites and Voltron. The Blade was more than willing the leave people behind. Sacrificing the few to save the many.

To Lance’s surprise Zarek continued. ‘I will also say that your abilities have been severely underestimated Blue Paladin. Both by I and the others around you. I had been informed when we were partnered for the mission that you were not readily proficient in close quarters combat. Though your talent with a gun was more than evident from the start I must say that they were mistaken. You showed superb ability to wield you weapon in the face of your foes.’

Lance gaped at the Galra. So surprised he was rendered speechless. It was probably for the best then, that it was then the team spilled forth into the room. Coran led the way, entrance as flamboyant as ever, moving over to check the pod records. 

‘I must say Zarek here has the right of it, my boy. I didn’t see it myself but from what Number One and Number Four have been telling us you gave those Galra the what fore’ said Coran, having caught then end of their conversation. Zarek stood, stepping back and nodding with respect to the Princess. Everyone took up positions around the room, all looking towards Lance. Allura was the first to step forward, giving the Blue Paladin a smile.

‘Lance, it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?’

‘All right for the most part Princess. I’m just…really warn out. More than I normally am after a pod visit.’

‘Yes, that’s to be expected. If everything we’ve been told is true. Changing your bayards form like that takes a fair amount of quintessence. Considering you were already tired and went through so many changes in such a short time it’s no surprise you’re feeling worn out. Unfortunately while the pods can provide a small amount of pure quintessence, the minimum to keep you alive, they cannot replenish your levels to full.’

‘Nope, I’m afraid only good old fashioned rest can do that my lad. But everything else here looks spiffy. Nothing to worry about.’

Lance relaxed marginally, sending both of the Alteans a smile. ‘Well that’s good then. What happened anyway? Last thing I remember is fighting?’

‘The base blew. Luckily the Lions must have sensed it as they rushed forward. Scooped us up all in time to take the impact. There was some minimal cosmetic damage but nothing lasting.’ Shiro assured, seeing Lances startled and alarmed look.

‘Dude, what happened out there?’ asked Hunk, sitting close. ‘Like, Shiro and Keith say you went all ultra Paladin or something.’

‘They said you kept changing your bayard into forms we haven’t seen before.’ Pidge leaned forward eagerly in their seat, eyes wide with curiosity.

Keith stomped over; arms crossed, frowning down at Lance. ‘You went through, like, six different forms. How did you do that!?’ He eventually burst, hands thrown wide. His famously short patience run dry before Lance even had the chance to open his mouth. Shiro placed a calming hand on the Red Paladins shoulder, but his gaze was also imploring. 

‘Oh’ said Lance, stalling. The fight, the feelings, the change of his bayard flashing through his mind. ‘Oh, holy crow! I really did that?’ he said to the world at large, disbelieving.

‘Yes! How!?’ shouted Keith, looking like he wanted to shake Lance. 

Allura cut in, a delicate frown on her brow. ‘Please Lance, you’re not in trouble. Quite the opposite really. We’re all just curious as to how you managed such an impressive feat. While we know the bayards are capable of evolving into different forms in response to their Paladins, Zarkon is the only Paladin to have every unlocked so many forms and show such proficiency in using it. And he had over 10,000 years to master his weapon.’

Lance blinked, looking at everyone looking at him. Suddenly, inexplicitly shy. Even Zarek was looking on with blatant curiosity. The fight had been such a blur, it was hard to remember.

‘Just tell us what you know Lance. We all know you could turn you bayard into a sniper when needed. Why don’t you start from there.’ Shiro smiled at him encouragingly. 

Lance took a breath, fiddling with his fingers as he thought. ‘Okay’ he said at length, ‘So I wasn’t actually too sure about my sniper at first. Like, it just happened one day when I was training. I was really in the zone you know. Just thinking about how to get to the drones before they got to me. Then it just sort of changed. So normally I just focus _really_ hard on needing to shoot far away to get it back. The sword though, that’s different.’

‘Wait, are you saying you could already transform your bayard into a sword?’ Hunk asked, startled.

‘Oh yeah, kind of.’

‘Dude, why didn’t you say anything? That’s so cool!’

Lance smiled at his friend, feeling his shoulders rise ever so slightly. It _was_ pretty cool. ‘I was going to surprise you. Like, one day at training let a drone get close and then go all, ‘bam bitch! Bet you didn’t see this coming’ and bring it out. I hadn’t quite got the transformation down yet though. I could general call it forth but it took me concentrating for a while to do so, it wasn’t ready for combat yet.’

‘So how did you manage it? And all the other forms during the middle of the battle?’ Pidge looked impressed along with everyone else, for that matter. Lance could feel his chest inflating with pride.

‘I…well I’m not too sure. It’s hard to explain.’

‘You must have some idea’ said Keith, still frowning deeply.

‘Well kind of. But it…doesn’t really make sense. Beside it’s all a bit of a blur. Everything was more on instinct than anything else.’

‘Please Lance. Even if I doesn’t make sense, anything you remember might be helpful. So far you are the only one of the Paladins to unlock a new bayard forms. Which is incredible! Especially considering you humans are not very responsive to quintessence and your lack of training’ reassured Allura, sending him a proud bright smile. Making Lance feel ten foot tall. ‘But it would be immensely helpful if the others could do the same thing.’

‘Having more options in a fight can only be a good thing’ agreed Shiro.

Lance bit his lip, contemplating how to put it. Things were becoming a bit clearer now. His brain having properly warmed up. He still hesitated, worried he would sound ridiculous. After all, it _felt_ ridiculous to him. ‘It’s hard to explain. I wasn’t really thinking about the _weapons_. Not really.’

‘So…what? You didn’t know what the bayard would turn into?’ said Pidge doubtfully. Lance shock his head.

‘No, no that’s not it. Not really. I knew what the bayard would turn into but I didn’t really think about it. Not really. I wasn’t really _thinking_ at all. It wasn’t so much a thought but more…a feeling. A sensation.’

‘A feeling?’ Pidge said flatly, clearly not impressed. Lance shot her a look.

‘Yes, a feeling! I felt what a sword would feel like and so I got a sword. I felt what I needed to have a hammer, so I got a hammer. Once I did it once I just kept doing it. Switching between the feelings. I think…Blue was helping me. I’m pretty sure she nudged me a bit at least. Kept my energy up.’

‘It wouldn’t be surprising. Your bayards are bound to you and the Lions together. The Blue Lion might have helped you with unlocking its potential.’ Allura sounded supportive, if confused.

Lance sighed, ‘look I’m not saying it makes sense. It sounds stupid to me as well but that’s what I did. Just…felt it.’

‘Perhaps you could show us?’ hedged Shiro. Allura and Coran shared a look.

‘Well, I suppose if Lance is alright with it. His quintessence levels should be alright if its just a quick demonstration.’ Lance’s bayard was quickly produced and brought forward. Lance took it with a little trepidation, everyone watching him expectantly. It reminded him breifly of the Garrison. He had chocked then too.

‘Hay, buddy, breath. No worry if you can’t do it alright. We all do stuff during battle that we can’t explain half the time. No rush’ reassured Hunk, reaching over to squeeze Lance’s knee. Lance released a breath, giving the Yellow Paladin a grateful smile.

‘Right, let’s try this.’ Lance closed his eyes. Deciding to start easy just to get the ball rolling.

Push and pull. Waves on the ocean. Tides on the shore. Balanced and familiar.

His rifle formed instantly.

The drip drop of water on stone. Time passing. The crack of an iceberg. The constant slow piercing power. The crack of destruction.

Lance could feel the change, the shift in his bayard. The barrel lengthening into his sniper.

Something completely different. Cutting and cold. Black ice on concrete. Sharp and dangerous.

The barrel gone entirely. Long and dangerous blade forming in its place. Sword shinning.

Okay, now it was getting difficult. Those were the feelings he was comfortable with. Now it was time for the new stuff. Concentrate Lance. Feel the flow.

The crush of the glacier. Pressing down and down. The ponderous, ground tearing power.

The blade disappeared, thinning and lengthening into a staff, the heavy head of the hammer solidifying. Weighty and mighty in his grip.

He had got it now. The flow coming back to him, the fluttering change of the feelings. The pull of his bayards power. Swift but penetrating. Flexible and dancing but persistent. A fast river cutting through rock. Narrowing gorges, scooping out valleys.

The weight of the hammer lightened, lengthening out into a wickedly sharp point. Spear fully formed and deadly.

Brief but deadly. A sudden frost. Rain turned to hail. Flexible and quick.

The bayard split in his palms. Two forms now settling comfortably. The knives razor thin. Shinning in the light.

Rain, fast and flighty. Constant and ever changing. From drizzle to sudden downpour.

The pistols fell into his hands. Triggers resting behind his fingers on instinct.

Rippling rapids, dangerous current. The crash and thunder of the waterfall.

The mess of destruction and first new form he had drawn forth in the fight. Born from need and desperation. Fat and dangerous. The heavy weighty form of the grenade launcher settling in his lap.

Lance opened his eyes, letting the bayard return to its resting form. Breathing slightly deeper than before. He looked at the others.

‘Incredible’ breathed Allura, eyes sparkling.

‘That. Was. So. Cool!’ cried Hunk, jumping to his side. ‘That last one, what was it? It looked kind of like mine but…short.’ He said, squishing his own imaginary bayard in his hands. Lance let out an exhausted chuckle.

‘It’s a plasma grenade launcher. I used it to scatter the drones when they were swarming out the base.’

‘To great effect’ intoned Zarek, speaking after a long period of silence. Lance had almost forgotten he was there.

‘We didn’t see that one’ muttered Keith, looking impressed. Beside him Shiro looked proud but thoughtful.

‘You said you…feel, what the weapons are like?’ asked Allura, staring intently into his eyes.

‘Well, yeah. It’s kind of weird. My rifle’s kind of like the tide and my snipers sort of a combination. Ice-burgs and the slow drip of water. Then the swords really, really cold ice. The knives are kind of similar. More a sudden chill or something. The grenade launchers rapids and a waterfall, the pistols rain, the spear a river and the hammer a glacier.’ Lance stopped, realising everyone was staring at him. Clear incomprehension painted across their faces. He drew into himself a little. ‘At least, that’s what it feels like, to me.’

Pidge pursed her lips, chewing over this new information. ‘Do all these feelings have to be water based? Should it feel the same for us or should it be different? And how are you able to switch between them so quickly? Doesn’t it take time to bring forth different feelings? You switched between them so cleanly.’

Lance looked at her, not knowing how to answer. Coran took up the slack, bursting back into the conversation. ‘I think I might have the explanations you’re looking for Number Five. Though it’s all just a theory, but I have some confidence in it.’

Everyone turned, Coran twiddling his moustache as he normally did before he decided to impart some universal wisdom. ‘To answer you first question; no, it is not easy to switch between bayard forms. For one, you must be highly in sync with your lion to do so. Or in the case of Zarkon, have a very, very long time to perfect such things. Number Five is right in thinking that switching between forms, and thus feelings, so quickly is extremely difficult. The fact that Lance is capable of doing so after so little time speaks very highly as his compatibility as a Blue Paladin.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean’ Keith said shortly, confused frown set on his face. Even Allura looked blank, this all new to her.

‘Well, as we all know, each Lion represents something different. Searches for Paladins with different qualities. All of which are needed to build a strong team and form Voltron. As well as being associated with their elements.’

‘I had always wondered about that. The use of a five element system is an extremely archaic form of universal understanding. Widely disregarded in the earth sciences and relegated mostly to fiction’ said Pidge.

‘Not so archaic after all Number Five. The five energies, while certainly not comprising everything in the universe, do also make up and represent the five major types of quintessence. Quintessence, as you know, is pure energy and in all living things. Normally it is a mixture, but it can be separated into different…states, as it were. I have to say, even the Alteans didn’t fully grasp its complexities. Just as Alfor didn’t know everything about the Lions despite being their creator.’

‘Fascinating, but can we kind of get back on track here’ interrupted Lance. After all the time he spent with the man Lance recognised the beginning of one of Corans long winded winding stories when he heard one. Normally he would be happy to listen, but right now he wanted answers.

‘Right you are Number Three!’ Coran clapped his hands, taking no offence. Looking to each paladin in turn. ‘Coming back to it then. The elements also tie into what a Lion searches for in a paladin. The Black Lion is the guardian of space and sky. They look for paladins with leadership potential, ones that can inspire loyalty and respect. They also pick those with ambition. The Red Lion is passionate, as suiting their element of fire. Allura was right to say they rely on instinct. They chose paladins who are as quick and passionate as they are. The Green Lion is guardian of the forest and they value curiosity. Not necessarily intelligence, you understand, but that often follows. They also value people with the daring to pioneer. Just as life changes and grows. Never forgetting their roots but ever reaching upwards. The Yellow Lion of earth searches for those who can be steady. Firm and true to their morals. A strong and compassionate heart, a hand to rely on.’

Coran wet his lips, looking directly at Lance. The room hanging on his every breath. ‘Now the Blue Lion represents water, the most ubiquitous quintessence in the universe, but the most misunderstood by my reckoning. The Blue Lion looks for those that love deeply and are loyal to a fault; but this is not the main properties that draw them to a paladin. What the Blue Lion searches for most is the ability to adapt and change. To be what is needed for Voltron. Whether that is as a supportive friend, long range support, someone to calm people down or stir them up as needed. The Blue Lion is open to all types of pilots.’

‘It was always said that she was the friendliest of the lions. The most likely to accept new pilots’ said Allura slowly. Lance frowned, wondering what that meant. Did that mean Blue thought Lance was adaptable? He supposed it sounded like a good thing to be, but Lance couldn’t quiet help the sinking feeling in his stomach. Being ‘adaptable’ sounded a lot like ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ something Lance had always struggled to not be. He had wanted to be _good_ at something. To stand out. To be taken seriously instead of always being treated as second place. The best fit for when others weren’t available.

‘Right you are Princess. And it’s for good reason that the Blue Lion got such a reputation. In the time before the Paladins of Voltron were finally selected Blue had more pilots than all the other Lions combined.’

‘She what?’ said Hunk with surprise, ‘but I thought the Lion had to chose the paladin? That they had to be compatible and stuff?’

‘Oh, they do Number Two. However, just as the lions look for paladins with certain qualities, they too embody them. The Black Lion is expansive and awe inspiring in their scope. The Red Lion is quick to temper and picky. The Green Lion curios and reaching, always happy to experiment with new upgrades. The Yellow Lion is strong and stable and the Blue Lion is…’

‘Adaptable’ breathed Shiro, cottoning on.

‘Precisely! So the Blue Lion, being the guardian of water, would do as her nature dictates. When a new pilot was presented she would adapt. Mould herself and her quintessence to let them in. Now, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but it did have its down falls. For one, pilots would suddenly find themselves locked out when the Blue Lion had a change of mood. They’re known for being fairly fickle at times.’

Lance snorted, knowing Blues moods all too well. People called him a drama queen but Lance had nothing on Blue. His girl would change her mind five times in a five minuet trip. Ideas and arguments spinning through her at light speed. Never settling. Like raindrops in a storm. All thoughts flowing into the ocean that was Bblue in her gorgeous, messy, terrifyingly beautiful whole.

‘These pilots of Blue weren’t necessarily bad. Many of them were brave worries, brilliant tacticians, celebrated pilots etc. Several of them even had the ability to form Voltron. However, none, until Blaytz, could ever become the true Paladin of the Blue Lion. Because none of them could ever adapt enough in return to encompass the whole of what she represents. Think about it!’ cried Coran, arms spread wide.

‘Water! It’s everywhere, necessary to almost all life. It has so many states and in between states, all mixed up together. For being so simple its behaviour is chaotic and encompassing. It is no easy task, to be and grasp every change and form. But that’s exactly what a true Paladin of the Blue Lion must do.’

Coran paused for a moment, looking thoughtful and nostalgic. Seeing something from long ago. ‘Even Alfor took a time trying to fly her. To convince her to find a paladin and stick with them for longer than a week. The man was rather at his wits end by then. Blue let him in, despite the incompatibility that should arise from the red paladin piloting the blue lion. It took all of two days before he became frustrated with her and gave it up. He could fly alright, but it became very apparent very quickly where the problem lay. Easiest Lion to pilot, hardest to master; is what he used to say.’

Coran blinked, returning to the present. Eyes locking once more with Lance, who listened entrapped. The Altean brightened, smile lighting up his eyes with pride. ‘But we don’t need to worry about all that because we have Lance here. Perfect Blue Paladin material. Empathetic but adaptable. Able to ride th Blue Lions mood but stand his ground. This bayard shifting is just an extension of that bond. Not to say that you others won’t be able to change your bayards, but it is likely to be a might harder for you to grasp. Even with our Lance here coaching you.’

‘Cause we’re not as adaptable?’ asked Pidge, looking both impressed, interested and a might annoyed. Likely wanting to try changing her own bayard straight away.

‘Not everyone finds it so easy to change their heart and yet remain constant to themselves. I don’t think the Blue Lion would have waited 10,000 years for someone not up to the task’ said Coran warmly.

Lance didn’t know what to think. Emotions all over the place. Coran was making it sound like he was something great. Something special. That his bond with blue was unique. Despite the fact that she might let others pilot her. Lance looked at his bayard, fiddling with it. Feeling a growing sense of accomplishment swell within him.

Blue purred smugly. She always knew how to pick them.


End file.
